“Did you see this, honey?” Rose peered over the newspaper, one eyebrow cocked skyward, telegraphing her interest. “’Costumes for the American Legion’s annual Halloween Dance can be procured at the Armory any time after Saturday noon. Prices reasonable,’” she read. “That would be fun. Art Shook’s old-time orchestra will be there. Can we go?”
“You know I don’t dance.” He hated to disappoint her. But he had a surprise already planned for Saturday. Complete with costumes and everything.
Imagine no Trick-or-Treating. Continue reading
Okay. I apologize for the bad pun. Just trying to keep with the corn theme from my last post.
There’s actually a mystery surrounding this picture. Two mysteries, to be honest. The first is about little green men. Continue reading
I’ve been working on a harvesting scene.
That’s code for watching YouTube videos.
But have I found some interesting harvest tidbits to share: Continue reading
And since we’re talking about indoor plumbing, did you know that Rose burned down the privy?
It was an accident. Of course. But now, Harold will have to build an outhouse. And that’s no easy task.
A few interesting facts about “the necessary”… Continue reading
I love to start my morning with a steaming cup of coffee, don’t you? I stumble down the stairs, still half asleep, resolutely headed to the kitchen and the carafe of elixir my husband has gloriously brewed earlier in the morning… While I slept.
Poor Rose. Such is not the life for her.
First, it would be her task Continue reading
You might be wondering why I’ve chosen rural Nebraska just on the outskirts of Omaha as the setting for my story.
Well, apart from my obvious family connection to the area, it has a great bootlegging history, and that history is partially the cause for this WIP in the first place. Long before Rose or Harold insinuated their way into my brain, I was digging around on Omaha history webpages looking for information about one of Dear Husband’s relatives who lived there in the early 1900s. Instead I found a new crime boss in the real life Tom Dennison and his underworld denizens. More than just bootlegging, Dennison owned Omaha in the early 1900s, and nothing happened there without his say so.
What a perfect foil for a poor farmer, down on his luck, needing some quick cash.
Watch out, Harold!
Titles are difficult. Not only that, but conventional wisdom says the book’s title can best be determined after the book is finished.
But it has to be called something in the meantime, right? If only so one can preface that terrifying question that comes after one admits to writing a novel: “What’s it about?”
So, what, you ask, does moonlight and roses Continue reading
Have you been wondering about the picture that shows when I post new content? It’s a picture of Rose, or more accurately, how I imagine Rose. I found the original picture while looking for 1929 fashion examples.
The image doesn’t look much like a farmer’s wife, and I guess that’s the point. This woman is sophisticated without being haughty, and very much a product of an urban upbringing. I mean, can you imagine trying to keep that hairstyle just-so while slopping the pigs? Or mucking with the laundry?
What kind of things do you think would be a challenge for a city girl on a farm? Give me some ideas in the comments below; maybe I can use one of them for a new scene.
PS: The “sketch”-y version of this picture was made using the SketchGuru app. It’s a lot of fun to play with.
You know the old adage “write what you know”?
I’ve ignored that.
Instead, I’m delving into unknowns: prohibition, jazz music, 1930s farming… Things about which I know nothing. Which means I have to do a lot of research.
Sometimes, it makes me feel like I’ve gotten lost down a rabbit hole.
Like today. Continue reading